Sense in the Park
by mrsliter's-botanicals-notebook
Summary: Fanny Price is a twenty-three year old college graduate who decides to move in with her wealthy aunt and uncle at the Mansfield Park estate in Alabama. There, she finds herself quickly enrobed in dramas of love, desire, betrayal, and deceit among characters from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park. A modern, American take on two classics.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Summer had burned through Colorado with a vengeance, leaving behind a wake of dry, crisp earth with a thirst for autumn. Fanny Price was lying in her bedroom in her parent's house with the shades drawn and the overhead fan whirring on full blast. She hadn't been herself lately; at first, she blamed the heat for her lack of motivation, but soon she began to realize that she had the post-graduation blues. It was hardly believable that she, Fanny Price, had a degree, let alone had finished college at all, and was now expected to _use _her degree and start a career.

She sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her thick, tangled dark hair. Aunt Maria, Fanny's mother's sister, had invited Fanny to move in with her and her family in Alabama and work at her uncle's coffee franchise headquarters until something more suited to her double major in English literature and creative writing came along. The proposal while at first sounding petrifying, was gaining appeal as the summer dragged on and Fanny remained stagnant. She had even taken to convincing herself that she had already decided that she would accept the offer and move to Alabama, but was waiting for the right moment to make the announcement. But Fanny Price had not once in her life made a move in haste. And besides, she had her mother and sisters to tell, and that would take more courage than Fanny thought she had at the moment. Ellie, Fanny's elder sister, was having relationship troubles with her boyfriend of two and a half years, Ed. He was a gentle and soft-spoken man with kind gray eyes whom Fanny had seen as more fatherly than brotherly. However, Ellie valued this in Ed more than anything; she did not like spontaneous, unpredictable people. Fanny thought that he was dreadfully forgettable and dull, but no matter what she thought of Ed, seeing Ellie suffer was painful. Especially knowing that Fanny was already halfway to Alabama and that she wouldn't be that shoulder for Ellie to cry on, made her feel infinitely guilty.

Nevertheless, Fanny knew that she was slowly wasting away in Denver, and that her extravagantly rich uncle's estate was calling her name. Fanny needed to put Fanny first.

"Ellie?" Fanny called out in a fit of boldness. "Are you home?"

She paused a moment and heard footsteps walking down the hall. Adrenaline started pumping viciously through Fanny's veins. The doorknob twisted, and Ellie's round, tanned face and gleaming blue eyes peered into the darkened bedroom.

"Do you need something?" Ellie asked, pushing blonde ringlets away from her eyes.

"Yeah," Fanny said. "I have something to tell you."

Ms. Price was the easiest to accept the news that Fanny would be leaving, further reinforcing Fanny's hunch that her mother and aunt had been in on a plot to get her to Alabama all along. Meg, the youngest sister, had cried, but she cried often so it was easy for Fanny to pat her on the back and move on. Ellie had taken the news with dignity, though Fanny could tell she was disappointed she would be losing her confidante.

When Aunt Maria heard the news she immediately booked a plane ticket, so before the week was over, Fanny was packing her bags and saying tearful goodbyes to her family in Denver. Daydreams of spending time lounging at Mansfield Park turned very suddenly in stepping off the plane into and incredible, muggy blast of hot air.

If Fanny could have worn nothing at all in the heat, she would have. Instead, she had worn pressed tan capris through which lines of sweat were bleeding and a dusty teal button-up. Fanny felt nauseous and over-dressed, but brightened immediately when she spotted her Aunt Maria.

"Fanny Price!" shrieked perky Aunt Maria from across the terminal. She had straight blonde hair like Fanny's mother, but Aunt Maria's was expensively coifed ad styled. She was bouncing with excitement from the pedicure peeping out of bright orange Manolo's, to the intricate beading of her new sleeveless blouse from Dillard's.

"Auntie!" exclaimed Fanny, embracing her thin aunt heartily. "It's so good to see you."

"It has been far too long." cooed Aunt Maria, cupping Fanny's face with her French-tipped fingers. "And you have turned into quite the beauty! College did you well."

Fanny blushed. "I would've taken a job instead."

"Oh shush, Fanny. So prudent! Well, you're here now and that is all that matters." Aunt Maria slinked a tan and toned forearm around Fanny's waist and gave her a squeeze.

"Hammond has already collected your bags and is pulling the car around. Now, while you're here, you don't be shy about asking him for a ride. He will take you where ever you want to go, ya hear?"

Fanny nodded. How he knew what bag was hers was beyond comprehension. "Yes ma'am. Thank you again for everything. I already feel lighter being down here."

The two women stepped outside and Aunt Maria lit a slim, brown cigarette while they waited for Hammond. She held the tobacco between her flexed middle and first fingers, taking ladylike sips from the end like it were a teacup. She must've felt Fanny's eye studying her, so she turned and smiled warmly at Fanny. "They're South American. Thomas sent them in a package for my birthday. Oh, Fanny… What a party! It was a miracle I woke up the next day."

Fanny giggled darkly and blushed again. Aunt Maria was a notorious drinker; in fact, it was uncommon for her _not _to be drinking by noon. Furthermore, since Thomas had been gone nearly a year and a half in Brazil, Aunt Maria's addiction ad escalated into prescription medicine. She was fast approaching sixty years old, and Fanny worried for her health. But when one was in the company of Mrs. Maria Bertram, one is quickly more compelled to eat, drink, and be merry, than to question her well-being.

Hammond, a middle-aged, jolly-looking man pulled up in an ivory white Porsche Cayenne, and Fanny and Maria arranged themselves in the backseats. Soon they were busy discussing anyone and everyone involved with their family and barely noticed the forty-five minute drive to Mansfield Park estates.

"Here we are!" said Maria, buzzing with excitement as Hammond pulled up in front of twin, intricate, cast-iron gates that opened slowly and regally to a winding drive lined with Japanese plum trees ripe with fruit. Hammond cracked the rear windows and a gust of sweet, hot plum filled Fanny's nose.

"Oh, Hammond, you tease!" Aunt Maria squealed. She began rummaging through her purse and fished out two oblong pills, which she popped in her mouth. "Forgot to take my medicine." She said, smiling sheepishly.

Suddenly, the manor came into view and Fanny's heart could have exploded. She had no idea how many rooms, windows, or dollars made that mansion, but it was most certainly beyond her wildest dreams.

"Everyone is coming for cocktails this evening," said Aunt Maria as Hammond pulled into a private garage. "and appetizers, of course. Oh, and your cousin Julia has a special announcement. She has been waiting until you arrived to tell any of us. She's just so excited that you'll be staying here!"

Fanny gave her aunt a half-hearted smile. She knew well enough that Julia couldn't stand her, and that she wouldn't be shy about expressing the fact. Julia was beautiful in a foxlike, sharp way, with an angular, pointed nose and piercing hazel eyes. She was stern and unapproachable to women, but turned on maximum wattage seductress if an interesting male was within 100 yards. And Julia had the weakest moral code of any of the Bertrams; in middle school she and Aunt Maria had visited Denver and Julia made out with the only boy Fanny had ever come close to having romantic attachment to. Perhaps it was because Fanny forgave Julia that made Julia hate Fanny so much, or maybe it was jealously of Fanny's male friends, one could not be certain. Not that Fanny was the type to chase boys, she just happened to have more in common with the boyish sort throughout school.

The heat was sweltering and the 100% humidity blasted them unmercifully as Hammond opened the door for Aunt Maria. Fanny was suddenly overwhelmed with a claustrophobic, anxiety. She hadn't seen any of these people in half a decade, and here she was suitcase in hand, moving into their palace. Fanny was mostly content with a comfortable chair, a good book, and a hot cup of tea, but here there were going to be parties. Lots, and lots of parties. At Mansfield Park there was always a charity gala, a birthday party, or a just-for-the-hell-of-it ball.

The Southern air couldn't touch the chill of apprehension that swept Fanny as Aunt Maria ushered her across the cobblestone drive toward the entrance. Aunt Maria looped her arm through Fanny's and began walking fervently toward a tall, male figure.

"Oh! I see Brandon!" called Aunt Maria, shielding her eyes from the sun. "You will like him."

Fanny was dumbstruck. And so the awkward socialization commences…

"Ah! Christopher Brandon, aren't you as strapping as ever." Maria unhooked herself from Fanny and wobble-hopped into a friendly embrace with Christopher Brandon.

Christopher Brandon looked like he was in his early thirties and was dressed to the nines in expensive business-casual. He had thick, wavy dark brown hair that curled up around his ears and the nape of his neck and was peppered with gray. His face was masculine but pinched, like he was already worrying more about his next business appointment than standing here in front of Maria and Fanny.

"Brandon, this is my niece, Fanny Price. She's here to stay with us." Aunt Maria took a step back from Brandon and gestured to Fanny with a smirk and a mischievous glint in her eye.

Fanny was frozen. If she had been experiencing a mild case of social anxiety before, nothing could compare to the way being beneath Brandon's intense stare made her feel. Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid it could be heard. He was looking at her like he hadn't seen a woman in years, like he was a hungry wolf and she was a piece of hot, tender meat. Fanny's breathing hitched. His eyes! She was suddenly transformed into warm butter. His lips parted and he inhaled deeply. Fanny's stomach tightened.

"And, Fanny," Aunt Maria had her arm around Fanny's waist again motioning her closer. "This is longtime friend and associate of our family, Christopher Brandon."

Brandon took Fanny's hand in his. His hand was thick and rough, but his touch was so, so gentle. Fanny was very aware that her hands were sweating madly.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Price." He said. His voice was a growl, and his eyes never surrendering their hold on Fanny.

Fanny smiled weakly and nodded, glancing at her aunt who was wearing the biggest grin this side of the Mississippi.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Cousin Julia was as rotten as ever, Cousin Edmond was away in Africa on a mission, and Cousin Tom was in Brazil with his father on the coffee plantation. And here was Fanny, sitting at the antique pianoforte playing a Bach piece for the smoldering Christopher Brandon and a gleaming Aunt Julia. She could barely make out their figures observing her out of her peripheral vision, but she could still feel Brandon's eyes digging into her soul.

Now the stare wasn't entirely unpleasant; Brandon's brazen eyes ignited a fire in Fanny's belly that had never burned before, but those feelings were more than Fanny knew how to manage. Julia had ruined Fanny's only romantic venture, and that happened nearly ten years earlier. The uninhibited look of desire that her and Brandon had shared earlier seemed to peel down deep in the depths of her abdomen and make Fanny both incredibly aroused, and unfortunately awkward.

Despite her nervousness, Fanny couldn't help but think of the sexy line of his jaw, angular and distinguished. His brow was dark and brooding over the intensity of his eyes. But he was so much older than Fanny! She was mortified that he could be ten years her senior. He reduced her to the sniveling twelve year old with headgear and freckles of her youth.

As the piece came to an end, Fanny kept her head bowed as to avoid Brandon's eyes. She stood up from the piano to applause from her audience.

"Wonderful, dear. You have such talent!" Aunt Maria gushed.

"Thank you." Fanny smiled. She was compelled to curtsey, but knew she would feel like an ass if she obliged her urge.

"Now, Brandon, if you would excuse us, we need to freshen up before cocktails. You will be joining us, won't you?" said Aunt Maria, clasping her pristine fingers together cordially. "I don't know about you, but a mint julep sounds divine!"

Fanny stole a glance at Brandon, secretly hoping he would join them. He nodded his head to Maria with a humble, "Yes, ma'am," and looked up at Fanny. This time his gaze was less intense; his chocolate brown eyes were a warm, glowing ember of the fire that was burning when their eyes met outside. Brandon's dark lashes grazed his cheek as he looked down again. Was he suddenly shy? Could he be regretting his boldness with Fanny?

Fanny felt like laughing or crying, but instead turned to her aunt. "I should go get my bags," she muttered shyly.

Aunt Maria laughed. "Don't be silly! They're waiting for you in your room. We'll see you in a few hours, Brandon."

Maria beckoned Fanny down a bright hallway lined with floor-to-ceiling windows draped in expensive light gray damask, pouring early evening light across intricately constructed chaise lounges and solid wood side tables holding bronze Tiffany lamps and Brazilian baroque figurines. Tall, thriving palms cast striped shadows across a tribal runner that lined the entire hall.

"Brandon is sure something, isn't he?" Aunt Maria said over her shoulder. She gave Fanny a wicked smile.

"Yeah, he is," Fanny was _not_ good at girl talk.

"Well, he's single, you know. He's a really fantastic man. If I were only thirty years younger…"

_He had better be single!_ Fanny thought to herself haughtily. The memory of his eyes working her over like she was a ragdoll made her legs weak.

They entered an atrium sitting room that branched off in several directions down hallways lined with rustic, wooden doors. All the furniture in the atrium were varying shades of ivory and cream, offset by crimson and white pillows. A tall, curvaceous statue of an African woman holding a child on one arm and a basket in the other stood proudly between two enormous picture windows.

"This house is incredible." Fanny murmured. Aunt Maria smiled kindly.

"Thank you, dear. It is nice knowing that I'll have someone around. Mansfield Park has been awfully lonely these days without the kids around. Both boys out of the house, Thomas gone, and well Julia's never been much for keeping her mother company…" Her smile was sad now and Fanny's heart wrenched for her sweet, intoxicated aunt. "Here is your room! I hope you like it."  
The door swung open to a magnificent, hardwood canopy bed draped in sheer, light yellow fabric. An intricately carved chest was placed at the foot of the bed and had a small, neat stack of linens resting atop the lid. Matching vanity, armoire, and dresser were pushed up against the spacious walls. Black and white pictures of a tropical paradise hung around the room, and a giant Persian rug covered nearly the entire room. Fanny felt faint at how expensive this bedroom must be. Lying across the window seat were her two shabby suitcases, looking especially tired and sad. Outside the window was an expansive English garden. Fanny had definitely died and gone to heaven.

Next to the adjacent window was a desk that held a heavy, vintage typewriter with a giant pink bow resting on the keys. Fanny turned to Aunt Maria who was grinning.

"It's a welcome gift to your new home. Do you like it?"

Fanny beamed. "I love it!" She hugged her aunt firmly and planted a kiss on her thin cheek.

A rose-colored blush spread across Aunt Maria's face and she bashfully lowered her eyes. "Well, I'll leave you to get ready. We are expecting guests at seven. And I bought you a couple new outfits; they are hanging in the armoire."

Before Fanny could interject with any you-shouldn't-have's, Maria bowed out of Fanny's room, gently closing the door behind her. Fanny was alone. She sighed.

Glancing curiously at the armoire, Fanny daydreamed of crisp, designer dresses and laid down for a blissfully dreamless nap.

Fanny awoke to a soft rapping at the door. Rubbing her eyes, she rolled off of the side of the bed and stretched.

"Yes?"

"It's Maria. I just wanted to let you know we have half an hour before seven."

Fanny was eternally grateful. She could've easily slept through the entire night. "Thank you, Auntie. I dozed off…"

Maria giggled. "I had a feeling you might have."

Fanny rubbed her eyes again and yawned. She wasn't in any sort of mood to be going to a ritzy cocktail party. More than anything she wanted to crawl into some pajamas and curl up in her huge new bed. Opening her eyes as wide as she could, she stretched her arms up to the ceiling in an attempt to breathe some life into herself.

Fanny shuffled to the armoire and swung open the door. Inside were at least eight full outfits, designer outfits, hanging neatly side-by-side. A stunning, white Chanel summer dress immediately caught her eye. It had a modest V-neck, cap sleeves and ended in a ruffled hem about three inches above the knee. Fanny may have been a tomboy, but she could certainly appreciate fine fashion.

Tossing her capris and button-up aside, Fanny slipped into the dress and looked herself over in the mirror. It was a perfect, flattering fit over her thin features. Fanny looked delicate and feminine. She let her hair down from the ruined ponytail she had fixed earlier and brushed it hastily with her fingers. It fell in a tangled cascade of dark waves down to the center of her back. Fanny opened her bag and rummaged around for her hairbrush. _I need to text Mom._ She was sure that Maria had let her mother know she had made it safely, but she felt she needed to text her mother herself.

She yanked through her tangled mane with one hand and fished her phone out of her purse with the other. She had three texts: One from her mother, one from Ellie, and one from a number she didn't recognize.

_Just checking in. Luv u. –Mom_

It had been sent just after five when Fanny had been napping. She typed out a quick message to assuage her mother.

_Made it safe and sound. Mansfield Park is amazing. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you._

Fanny clicked open the text from Ellie.

_How do you like it?_

Fanny smiled. Both Fanny and Ellie had spent many an hour bashing on Cousin Julia, and Fanny was sure Ellie was curious how the reunion was going.

_Good so far. Getting ready for a fancy cocktail party. I'll let you know how it goes._

Fanny paused before opening the text from the unknown number. She immediately thought of Brandon and felt extremely foolish. _It couldn't be from him, could it?_ Her heart began to pound. Fanny ran her hands over her belly and breasts, smoothing down her dress, feeling flushed. What made her so flustered at the thought of him confused Fanny, she was both compelled to make-out with him and avoid him at all costs.

He was so tall; he had to have been at least six feet, two inches tall, and his broad shoulders made his stature even more impressive. Fanny had never been so aware of her chemistry with a man before, and Brandon's effect on her was unsettling. She listlessly wished he would burst into her room in a fit of passion and she could run her hands over him. This thought made Fanny blush, even though she was alone. It was _definitely_ time for a cocktail now. She tossed her phone back into her purse without looking at the text.

It was ten after seven, and Fanny had finally wandered back to the front foyer after several wrong turns and dead ends. Muffled laughing and conversation could be heard from a nearby room. It sounded like quite the crowd too, and Fanny could feel her palms beginning to sweat. A door swung open to her right that made Fanny jump back, startled. A light haze of cigar smoked billowed out of a sitting room lined with bookshelves and filled with expensive-looking guests.

Cousin Julia emerged from the depths of the room in a fit of giggles looped around the arm of the most handsome man Fanny had ever seen. She was wearing a spaghetti-strapped black dress that was completely covered in beaded fringe. Her slick-straight hazelnut bob and dark red lipstick gave Fanny the impression that Julia had just jumped through a time portal from some roaring twenties party.

The man had a cigar in one hand and a crystal lowball with caramel-colored liquor in the other hand. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and was ravishing in a well-tailored, gray pinstripe suit. Piercing, glacial blue eyes were framed by long, luscious dark lashes and dark brown ringlets that fell haphazardly across his forehead. The top two buttons of his white shirt were undone revealing a tanned, tight chest. There was no way he wasn't a model.

Julia locked eyes with Fanny.

"Oh!" she said, startled. "Cousin Fanny…" A sneer spread dangerously across Julia's sharp face. "It's so good to see you again."

The curly-haired man was giving Fanny the up-down, and Fanny couldn't help feeling like she had interrupted something she shouldn't have seen.

"You too, Julia. You look great."

Julia nodded curtly. "Excuse us." And with that, she marched down a hallway into the manor, pulling the man behind her.

The man caught Fanny's eye and flashed a boyish grin before Julia yanked him out of eyesight.

Mansfield Park must spawn hot men. Fanny smiled to herself and stepped into the room of the cocktail party.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Dozens of white paper lanterns were hung from the high, vaulted ceiling illuminated by one colossal, ornate chandelier. There must have been fifty people conversing, drinking, and perusing the room. Fanny stood back and scanned the faces. Most of the men and women were uncommonly good-looking, and if they weren't, Fanny would've bet her last penny that they were filthy rich. Waiters dressed in sharp-cornered white button-ups were meandering about carrying silver trays of glittering champagne flutes.

"Fanny, darling!" cried Aunt Maria, her blonde hair curled in tight ringlets framing her joyous face. "I was about to call in search and rescue!"

Fanny smiled modestly. "I took a few wrong turns… It's easy to get turned around when unaccustomed to the beauty of Mansfield Park."

"Oh, stop!" Aunt Maria swatted a dainty, gloved hand at Fanny playfully. "You'll know it like the back of your hand soon. Come, let's get you a drink. There are so many people I'd like you to meet!"

Aunt Maria looped her arm through Fanny's and guided her to the bar.

Soon, Fanny was on her third Henrick's and tonic and had met so many dazzling, elite friends of the Bertram's she could barely keep their faces straight, let alone their names.

"I'm going to step outside for some air." Fanny said, wobbling slightly as she leaned in to Aunt Maria.

"Of course, dear." Aunt Maria said, barely distracted from a conversation with a spectacularly tall, brunette woman, and her much shorter date.

Fanny took a teasing bite out of a drunken cucumber she had fished out of her glass and wove in and out of the glamorous crowd. She didn't even notice as she stumbled by Christopher Brandon, who at the sight of Fanny, shot down the last of his scotch and followed the lubricated Fanny Price as she wandered out of the hall. He was careful to hang back so that she wouldn't notice him, but he had to be sure that she was safe. There were plenty of unsavory individuals at the party, and Brandon wasn't about to let sweet, naïve Fanny, the first woman to catch his attention since his only true romance had turned into a tragedy, fall victim.

Brandon swallowed hard. He was acting like a school boy with a crush, but holy hell was she irresistible. Never had he been so bold as to look at a woman like he looked at her. He groaned. This had to stop, he couldn't just tease himself like this, and he needed to act. He needed her, he wanted to feel every part of her so badly.

Emerging from the front entrance where she had arrived earlier, Fanny was disappointed to realize that the rush of warm, Alabama night air wasn't the refreshing fresh air she had anticipated. The mugginess was making her nauseous and woozy.

As Fanny began to make her way across the cobblestone, she misjudged the arch of a rock and her heel jolted her ankle violently outward. Flinging out her arms in an attempt to catch herself, Fanny crashed hard into the hot cobblestone, skinning her right hand and elbow. "Shit!" she whimpered, lying out across the ground. Her ankle was throbbing.

Brandon's heart was in his throat. He hesitated before running to her, and in his moment's hesitation another man's figure was already rushing to her side. Cursing himself, Brandon backed into the shadows of the shrubbery feeling guilty and unscrupulous for following Fanny without announcing his presence.

The white Chanel dress, now scuffed and rumpled, rode up around Fanny's hips as she curled into a ball. The man's eyes widened. Fanny tried to push herself up, but a searing pain in her ankle made her freeze to the spot. She squinted in the darkness to see her ankle, but couldn't discern an injury.

"Hold still," a young male voice thick with an Alabama drawl came from the figure of the man who had rushed to her. She hadn't noticed him behind her. Craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the stranger made her ankle pound with pain. Fanny gasped.

"Don't move, I'll come to you." The man said, quickly moving to the front of her and kneeling down. Instantly she recognized him as the man she had locked eyes with earlier, the man with Julia. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern, though his mouth was soft and parted slightly.

"May I?" he looked into her eyes, espresso ringlets falling into his own. Fanny was compelled to reach out and brush them away.

"What?" she croaked absentmindedly. The man laughed, delightful crinkles, illuminated by the lights from within the house, formed in the corners of his eyes.

"May I take a look at your ankle?" he asked, again looking deep into her eyes. Their faces were now only inches apart, and Fanny could feel his breathing becoming ragged. Embarrassed, she lowered her eyes and blushed.

"Of course," she whispered huskily.

He smelled faintly of sweet cigar and the most intoxicating cologne Fanny had ever smelled. Rolling up his sleeves, he rubbed his hands together before gingerly lifting Fanny's ankle with one hand and pulling off the perpetrating red pump with the other. Pain suddenly blinded Fanny. She whimpered and clung to the man's side.

This was too much for Brandon to bear. He stepped out from the shadows and rushed to Fanny.

"It might be dislocated. There's a lot of swelling." The man said matter-of-factly to Brandon.

Brnadon seemed to disregard the man altogether and knelt in front of Fanny's face, gently brushing her hair out of her face. The concern in his eyes, and her drunken inhibition lit that fire deep in Fanny's belly and made her want to reach out and grab him.

"Brandon," she whispered and reached out to take his hand.

His heart flipped. He took her face in his hand, and gazed at her tenderly for a moment. Unfortunately, the moment was cut short as Fanny doubled over and vomited across Christopher Brandon's lap, and promptly passed out.

"Fanny, sweetheart, are you awake?" murmured the warm, silky voice of Aunt Maria. Fanny's skull was pounding and she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could submerge herself for a few more blissful hours of dark unconsciousness. She buried her head into a stiff pillow and moaned.

"Here, honey, take one of these. You'll feel better," Aunt Maria gently touched a pill to Fanny's dry lips. "Just don't tell the doctors."

Fanny opened her lips, but not her eyes. Aunt Maria slipped the medicine into her mouth and held a Styrofoam cup to Fanny's lips, slowly tipping the water. Clumsily, Fanny slurped enough water to choke down the pill, and was suddenly a little worried about whether or not she should've allowed her aunt to slip her drugs. Where was she, anyway? Fanny wanted to ask, but didn't trust her voice.

"Should I fetch the doctor?" said a hushed man's voice.

"I'm okay," Fanny mumbled. The hospital? She groaned. Her voice was scratchy and dry. The will to open her eyes evaded her, though the curiosity about the identity of the hushed man was peaking Fanny's interest.

"We're at the hospital, Fanny. You had quite the nasty fall on the cobblestone. You have a level two sprain." Aunt Maria explained. "It's worse than a one, but definitely not as bad as a three!" Aunt Maria was beginning to sound wasted. She was idly running her fingers through Fanny's hair.

"So, I'm, okay? What does level two mean?"

A woman's voice, rich with a heavy Indian accent replied. "Level two means that there was some tearing of the ligament that supports your ankle, and severe swelling."

Blinking several times and squinting against the harsh fluorescent light, Fanny became aware of the beautifully exotic Indian doctor standing before her, and her Aunt Maria's concerned and inebriated head bobbing just over the doctor's shoulder.

"We had to wait for you to regain consciousness in order to discharge you. I would keep that ankle on ice for the next twenty-four hours, and use crutches when you need to walk for at least two weeks." The doctor said before nodding curtly at Maria Bertram and leaving the room.

"Oh, Fanny, I'm so sorry. That cobblestone is a death trap in heels." Aunt Maria cried, clasping both her manicured hands around Fanny's face. The strong stench of whiskey poured into Fanny's nostrils, making her lightheaded.

"It's okay. I'm okay," Fanny said, feeling claustrophobic and nauseous.

"We were all so sad you had to leave under such terrible circumstances. Especially before Julia's big announcement!" Aunt Maria let go of Fanny's face, suddenly alight with excitement. "Julia and Allan Rushworth are engaged!"

Fanny narrowed her eyes. Allan Rushworth must've been the man who had come to her after her fall. A surge of shame washed over her; she and Allan had undoubtedly shared a very intimate air of electric attraction. _Sweet irony,_ she thought wickedly. Fanny was jolted with guilt.

"Well, Brandon, if you would let Hammond know we are ready, we'll get Miss Price up and at 'em."

Brandon had come! Fanny lifted her head enough to sneak a peek of Brandon sitting behind Maria. He had folded his jacket over an adjacent chair, and was sitting with his arms crossed and hair ruffled. His eyes were dark with unrest, and under the unforgiving hospital lights, he certainly looked all of thirty-five. Fanny rested her head back down on her pillow, embarrassed to be staring so critically at him in an obviously vulnerable state.

"Of course," Brandon replied gruffly, standing up and throwing his jacket over his shoulder. His eyes met Fanny's, but Fanny couldn't decipher what they were trying to say to her. He looked troubled and urgent, but she had no idea why.

"Ladies," he bowed his head to Fanny and Maria, and just as he was stepping out of the room, someone coming into the room intersected him.

Allan Rushworth? Fanny raised her head up again just in time to catch a glimpse of Brandon, who froze immediately, his eyes locked on Rushworth with a deadly intensity. Brandon glanced back at Fanny, giving her a look of heart-breaking plea with those melty, chocolate eyes. All Fanny could do was gaze back empathetically. Was he jealous? Had he seen the attraction her and Rushworth had shared? Even so, he was engaged to her cousin, Fanny was puzzled as ever.

Shooting one last threatening look at Rushworth, Brandon stalked out of the room and down the hall. He pulled his black iPhone from his pants pocket and scrolled through his recent calls, landing on Thomas Bertram's personal cell number. Daddy Warbucks was going to hear about this one.

"Thank you for finding me after I fell, Mr. Rushworth." Fanny croaked as Allan sauntered into the room. "And congratulations on your engagement."

The man stopped and looked at Fanny quizzically. Fanny looked desperately to Aunt Maria, who was giving her the same quizzical look.

"I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else." The man replied in that Alabama twang, sounding like the sweetest maple syrup Fanny longed to taste. "My name is John Willoughby."

He walked next to bed opposite of Maria and took her hand in his. "But no matter who I am, it's wonderful to make your acquaintance." Gently raising her hand to his lips, he planted a light but tender kiss just past her knuckles. He looked up at her through his lashes, his blue eyes twinkling, and Fanny felt his lips part into a grin. His eyes were flashing with mischievous, devilish intent and felt her entire face get hot.

John Willoughby was most certainly coming-on to her, and she couldn't deny that that was exactly what she wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Hammond dropped Brandon off at his estate around six o'clock in the morning, and Fanny was mentally kicking herself the rest of the drive home for having nodded off before she could see Brandon's house. If only that pill Aunt Maria had given her hadn't left her in such a haze…

"Darling, we're home," murmured the very inebriated and amazingly conscious Maria, as she rubbed Fanny's arm maternally.

"Mmmmm…" was all Fanny could muster.

She was vaguely aware of Hammond carrying her through the long hallways, but before she knew it, she was curled up in her new bed dreaming of that fantastic English garden just beyond the window.

The room was completely dark when Fanny was jolted awake in a panic. She looked frantically around her room, searching for anything familiar. _I'm in Alabama._ Fanny's comprehension was slowly catching up to her consciousness. _Mansfield Park_. Oh, yes… _Level two sprained ankle_. Fanny pulled off the covers. Her ankle was indeed a swollen, blotchy mess and was aching something fierce. The fancy white Chanel dress was crumpled, dirty and looked as though it had been through a worse night than Fanny. To her left was a bottle of prescription pills with her name on it and a glass of water. Heaving herself over, Fanny drank down the water ravenously, nearly polishing off the entire glass before stopping to take some of the pain medicine Aunt Maria had no doubt hustled out of the doctor. Fanny fell back onto the bed ready to fall back asleep, but a flash of the table to her right made her shoot up in attention. An eruption of Shasta daisies were bursting from a beautiful, translucent coral and tangerine marbled vase. A card was tucked amongst the daisies in an envelope with "Miss Price" scrawled in slanty, hasty penmanship across the back.

So much for the South being slow-paced! Fanny scooted to the side of the bed and gingerly lowered her legs down to the floor. Eyeing the card suspiciously Fanny reached behind her and pulled down the zipper to her dress. God, did it feel good to slip out of that dress. Careful to balance on her good ankle, Fanny hopped tenderly to the armoire and pulled out a robe that she slipped on and tied tightly around her waist. Crutches were neatly leaning up against the side of the armoire, and Fanny was quick to snatch them up and take a few practice swings around her room. But the card kept getting louder and louder, and Fanny had to open it.

Hesitantly, she crutched to the side of the bed and sat down beside the cheerful daisies. She plucked the envelope from its bed of flora and popped open the very lightly sealed envelope. Inside was a plain, white notecard covered in the same penmanship as the envelope.

_Miss Price,_

_ I pray your ankle isn't causing you too much pain. If you're up to it, I would love to take you on a tour of the area. And maybe even properly introduce myself._

_ Yours,_

_ John Willoughby_

Fanny could imagine perfectly the suave, good-looking John Willoughby flashing his boyish grin, and his syrupy Alabama drawl pouring over those words like warm molasses. His brief kiss flashed into her memory; those soft, sensual lips pressed down on her hand in such an intimate way, that he could have easily been kissing the curve of her neck instead. The way they lingered, fleshy, teasing, making Fanny wish he would have kept kissing her, made Fanny giddy with lust and embarrassment.

_God!_ She thought. _It's way too early for this._ The room was so darkened by the thick blinds that it could've been three in the afternoon and Fanny would have been none the wiser. She crutched to her purse and fished out her phone. 11:17 a.m. Not as bad as she had anticipated.

The text! Fanny suddenly remembered the mysterious text from the unknown number and started scrolling through several worried texts from Ellie and Mom.

_Hi Fanny. Sorry to hear I will be missing your arrival at the Park. _

_Hopefully I will get the chance to visit soon. Much love, cousin! –Edmond_

While Fanny certainly appreciated the sentiment, she couldn't help but be slightly disappointed that it wasn't from Brandon. Was Fanny Price really fawning over _two_ men? What had happened to the bookish, reserved and idealistic girl who had left Denver yesterday? She dialed the home number to her mom's house. Maybe all she needed was a reality check.

The phone rang once, twice, three times and was picked up. "Fanny!" Ellie exclaimed. "Aunt Maria told us you went to the hospital?"

"Yeah, I did," Fanny winced. "But I only sprained my ankle. Heels and cobblestone, ya know?"

"Well, I'm happy you're okay, Fan. We were all really worried." Ellie sighed heavily and paused.

"What's wrong?"

"Ed left me. It's really over now." Ellie sniffed and whimpered. "What do I do, Fanny? We've been together for so long..."

"Oh, Ellie, you'll be alright. I'm so sorry I'm not there with you. But you're strong, you can get through this," Fanny really had no idea what to say to her sister; love and heartbreak were very new and uncharted territories in Fanny's emotional repertoire.

"Everything reminds me of him… I can't even go to the convenience store without being reminded that everything we had together has been thrown away." Blubbered Ellie.

Fanny felt a rush of warm euphoria as her pills kicked in. The throb of her swollen ankle faded into nothing.

"I don't know what to say, Ellie. You could come here for a while, you know, get away? I'm sure Aunt Maria would love the company."

"I could sure use the vacation…" Ellie's blubbering decreased to a light sniffle.

Fanny was surprised at her gall. Regular, boring Fanny would never invite guests to someone else's house without their permission. She supposed Mansfield Park was bringing out the bold Fanny.

"I'll ask if she'd mind," Fanny added quickly. "But I don't imagine her saying 'no,'"

"I would really like to come." Ellie whispered. "Sorry to be such a mess, but I know getting away for a little bit would help a lot. So, how is everyone down there? Is Julia still awful?"

Fanny snorted. "Of course she is. She's engaged now… I guess they made the announcement last night after I'd gone to the hospital."

"I can't imagine her as someone's wife. Maybe it will help set her compass straight. Were there hot guys at the party? Anyone interesting?"

Fanny's cheeks burned. "I don't know, El. It feels like I'm on an alien planet down here…"

"You met a man?" Ellie exclaimed. "For real? That was fast. I need to get my ass down here pronto!"

Fanny laughed. "It's overwhelming. I've had absolutely no training for figuring out these hot men."

"Oh my god. There's more than one?" Ellie cried, bordering on hysterics.

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, yeah, there are some hot guys, but no, nothing is happening. How's Mom? Does she know I'm okay?" Fanny was frantic to dodge the subject of men at any cost.

"Yeah. She wasn't as crazy over it as I thought she'd be. I think she knows Aunt Maria loves you almost as much as she does." Ellie said. "I'll tell her you called. Her and Megs are out running errands."

"Thanks," Fanny said. "I'm gonna go take a shower, see if I can't feel a little more human."

"Okay. Glad you're okay. I love you."

"Love you too, El. Bye."

"Bye."

Had it really only been twenty-four hours since she had boarded that plane from Denver? Fanny rubbed her face. What a day! She delicately stood up from the bench she had sat on and hoisted herself back onto the pair of crutches.

Now to find the shower…

From somewhere within the depths of the house Fanny could head a grandfather clock chime once. She tied the terrycloth robe she had found in the bathroom closet tightly around her waist; there was no telling what new, hot man she would run into on the way back to her room. A smirk broke across Fanny's lips; she wickedly imagined running into John Willoughby _and_ Christopher Brandon. Warmth spread across her cheeks and deep in her belly. Practically hurtling herself through the hallway, Fanny raced back down the hallway toward her door.

"Fanny! Here you are!" Aunt Maria exclaimed as she clicked down the hallway toward Fanny. She was wearing a dusty pink, lime green, and gray sundress that floated around her like a mist, and white, Grecian-style sandals. "I hope you're feeling better. What a terrible way to end your first day here!"

"I feel a lot better. Thanks." Fanny replied, fidgeting on her crutches in an attempt to clasp her robe over her naked chest.

"Wonderful! Pierre, our head chef has lunch all ready. We're having John Willoughby and guest over soon."

Fanny's eyes widened. "What? Now?"

"Soon. I wanted to thank him personally for being there for you last night. And plus, he's a cutie." Aunt Maria winked, a grin parting her lipsticked mouth playfully.

"Okay, I'll get ready." Fanny crutched to her bedroom door and swung it open. "Where should I meet you?"

Aunt Maria let out a laugh. "I'll come back in forty-five and we can arrive together."

Fanny nodded, feeling weak and dizzy. She gave her aunt a timid smile and hobbled into her bedroom, clicking the door shut behind her. Now, it was back to the armoire for Fanny Price!

First, she opened all the curtains. The gardens looked still and scorching hot. It was a miracle that the Bertram's managed to keep such a lush garden in the peak of the sweltering Alabama summer. Fanny decided to wear her own shorts, a light khaki pair from American Eagle that she'd owned since high school and had since worn thin. She pulled on a tight, black tank top, and crutched to the armoire for more fashion inspiration. Flipping through dazzling outfit after outfit, Fanny stopped at an aqua, three-quarter length sleeved blazer made of a light and breathable muslin and arranged it over her tank top. Slipping on one flip-flop, Fanny looked in disdain at the navy-blue monstrosity of a leg brace supporting her gimp ankle. Two weeks of hobbling around on crutches and wearing only one shoe… Fanny sighed and took a look at herself in the full-length mirror. What a way to make a first impression!

The humidity brought out an attractive flush across Fanny's cheeks; her freckles had gotten darker over the summer, and her hair long. However, the idea of considering herself as a physical being made Fanny uncomfortable, and she crutched away from the mirror. Daisies sat joyfully on the bedside table, and the notecard laid face-up like a giant question mark waiting to be addressed. Would he be expecting an answer at lunch? Was he asking her on a date, or was Fanny's imagination running a little _too_ wild? And what about Brandon? Fanny felt incredibly fickle, and wanted to slap herself for being so caught up in such trivial affairs so quickly.

A solid knock at the door snapped Fanny from her thoughts. "Come in," she called, taking one last glance at herself in the mirror and crutching toward the door.

The door swung open slowly. Fanny looked up and froze as she saw John Willoughby brush through the doorway and look at Fanny with a charming expression of shyness.

"Miss Price," he said. "Mrs. Bertram sent me to fetch you for lunch."

Aunt Maria! "Ah, thank you." Fanny croaked. Blushing, she added, "And thank you for the flowers, that was sweet."

He smiled innocently and nodded. "It is my pleasure. And my apologies if my note was too forward… But I must tell you, you are enchanting, Fanny Price."

Fanny was sure she was scarlet from head-to-toe. She could sooner throw up than think of something witty and charming with which to reply. John seemed to notice and lowered his head.

"I'm sorry. May I carry anything to lunch for you?" asked a more bashful John, his hands held solemnly behind his back.

The pounding in Fanny's chest seemed to reverberate through her bones. She prayed John couldn't hear as she crutched forward toward John, stopping when there was only a foot between them.

"No, thank you." She said softly.

He reached out and lightly touched her hand that was squeezing the life out of the rubber support grip of her crutch.

"I can't say why, but I feel like I've known you for a long time." He murmured, gently brushing his thumb across her knuckles. Fanny's insides were clenching and urging him to close the distance between them.

Fanny's silence seemed to bring John back down to reality. She was flattered and undoubtedly madly attracted to him, but she wasn't sure she could say the same.

"Let's not keep them waiting," John said, unable to hide the note of dejection in his voice. "After you, Miss Price,"

He let go of her hand and back up to the door, pulling it open wider and graciously bowing his head.

"Please call me Fanny," Fanny purred, moving closer to John. She locked eyes with him, and this time it was she who had a mischievous glint in her eye. She leaned up on her one foot and slowly pressed her lips lightly to his cheek.

He inhaled sharply and held his breath. Unruly curls tickled Fanny's face, smelling of ginger, tempting her to run her fingers through them. She pulled back, John's hand grazing her neck seductively and she continued through the doorway into the hall. Fanny was terrified and electrified. Glancing up at him meekly, Fanny caught a small, triumphant, and dare she say smitten smile brush over his lips before he turned to shut the door behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

If looks could kill, Fanny would have been dead the moment she crutched out onto the beautiful, covered patio overgrown with luscious vines that had woven themselves thick through the trellis overhead. Julia's eyes scanned over Fanny and John Willoughby as they arrived together, and narrowed in distaste as John graciously (and maybe even a little dotingly), pulled out a chair for Fanny and arranged her crutches neatly within reach. He didn't however, choose to sit next to her; instead, he sat beside a dark-haired goddess who sat next to Julia on the opposite side of the table.

"Fanny, this is my sister, Mary. She is spending the next few weeks with me during the poker tournaments."

Mary Willoughby nodded her head and flashed a brilliant, reserved smile. She was everything one could think of the word 'voluptuous'; her curves were in all the right places, she had naturally pouting, curvy lips over large, straight and perfectly white teeth. Warm green eyes crinkled and sparkled when she smiled. She and John shared the same dark ringlets, though hers were piled into a loose bun pinned close to her head. Springy tendrils fell romantically around her face. She was wearing a figure-hugging black dress with a boat-cut neckline and delicate, black lace cap-sleeves.

"It's simply a pleasure to meet you, Mary." crooned Aunt Maria, raising her mint julep in Mary's direction.

"The pleasure is all mine," Mary replied, her voice deeper than Maria's and sweetly seductive. "Thank you for having us."

You're so very welcome! We are foreva' indebted to you brother. Anything we can do for either of you is the least we could offer." Maria's accent was getting thicker and thicker as she sucked zealously on her julep.

Fanny blushed. She glanced up at John, who met her eyes immediately and cracked a deliciously sexy grin before Julia leaned across Mary and caught John's attention. _What a bitch!_ Fanny thought spitefully before feeling like a bitch herself for being so catty. The man sitting next to Julia was also a stranger to Fanny, though she had a good idea of who he was. He was uncomfortable, shifty, and awkwardly trying to butt his way into Julia's conversation with the Willoughby's. Tubby, sweaty and with a wild crop of frizzy red hair shooting from the top of his head, Allan Rushworth was also impeccably dressed in a light grey, expensive-looking day suit. It was painfully obvious that Julia was not engaged to this man for anything but the money in his bank account. Julia was flipping her hair, batting her eyes, and shamelessly flirting with John Willoughby, who, to Fanny's dismay, was now flashing _Julia_ his sex-god, mischievous grin.

Tension grew between Fanny's eyebrows. Marry Willoughby met Fanny's eyes and gave her a sympathetic smile, but Fanny did not care for an apology from Mary.

Two waiters emerged from the house and busied themselves filling glasses with sparkling white wine and iced water. Fanny was sitting beside Maria, who was talking to whoever was listening about an elbow injury she had incurred during a tennis lesson. Despite Fanny's valiant efforts to nod attentively to Aunt Maria's story, while pretending to ignore Julia and John's intensifying flirtations, Fanny's blood was beginning to boil.

Arugula salads topped with caramelized red peppers, candied pecans, and gorgonzola were served on chilled, fine china, and Fanny was suddenly struck with how deep her hunger had grown. Drama and booze can sure go a long way in masking one's appetite.

A loud, classic ring of a cell phone interrupted the clanking of forks and sparse, full-mouthed conversation that had settled over the table.

"Oh!" Aunt Maria squawked. "Pardon me!" a giggly Aunt Maria exclaimed, snatching her phone from the table and glancing at the caller ID. "It's Tom!" She excitedly accepted the call. "My darling son!" she squealed into the phone. Fanny could hear a muted, male voice on the other end of the line and noticed Maria's face become sobered and serious. "Don't tell me yo' pullin' my leg, son."

Everyone at the table was hushed and now watching Maria intently as her seriousness melted into the most heart-warming smile Fanny had ever seen.

"I'll tell everyone the news." Aunt Maria ended the call, her face alight and gleaming. "Mr. Brandon is en route to Mansfield Park. He's bringing Tom home!"

Julia's eyes brightened and she smiled. "Is he staying long? Does he have work here?"

"Oh, you know Tom and your father… It's always whispering and sneaking around with secret business, no matter where they are." Aunt Maria retorted. She was vibrating with excitement and insisted that everyone have a shot of tequila. As much as Fanny resisted the idea, the liquor loosened the tension between her brows and allowed Fanny to have a genuinely animated conversation with Aunt Maria, while momentarily forgetting about John Willoughby. _Had she really kissed him earlier?_ She wondered, his charming, boyish smile creeping back into her mind. He must think her extremely naïve…

Plates of roasted Cornish hens, baby red potatoes with rosemary and blanched rainbow carrots with garlic and butter were brought out and placed on the table when Fanny's tall, brooding cousin walked heavily onto the patio. He was wearing dense hiking boots and olive cargo shorts that looked tired and over-worn. A silky, orange and yellow short-sleeved button-up exposed his sun-darkened chest. His sun-bleached light brown hair was long and hung nearly to his shoulders. Tom was as handsome and serious as ever, though at the sight of his mother practically exploding out of her seat, a modest smile graced his tanned face.

"My beautiful, baby boy!" Aunt Maria burst from the table and flung herself into Tom's open arms. "I'm so happy you're home." She sniffed loudly and squeezed her arms around Tom's waist. "Come and eat, sweetheart. There's an extra plate for you and Brandon."

Tom unraveled himself from his mother's arms, then walked around the table and planted a brotherly kiss on Julia's forehead.

"So, I hear congratulations are in order?" Tom asked huskily, glancing bemusedly at Allan, who was unconsciously shoveling potatoes into his mouth. One could never be sure if he was being light-hearted or painfully serious, for Tom had only one level of intensity, which was overwhelming to say the least.

"Yes, we're getting married this fall." Julia replied, unfazed.

"Why wait?" chimed in the goofy Rushworth through a mouthful of food. He glanced up at Tom and cowered. Julia rolled her eyes.

"This is John Willoughby and his sister, Mary. John saved our Fanny last night when she was injured." Maria jumped in, gesturing to the Willoughby's.

Tom was looking at John like he was a snake in a man costume. "How's the business of being slimy, stealing, son of a bitch, John?" he spat.

Everyone's jaw dropped.


End file.
